


Sunday Morning

by vampirewithbedsidemanners



Series: The Hiddlestons [8]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, hiddlestoners
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 09:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3687237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampirewithbedsidemanners/pseuds/vampirewithbedsidemanners





	Sunday Morning

A brush. He isn't even awake yet; but I am. Wide awake and caught. Vulnerable. The urge to get up and run edged my thoughts. No, I cant. Not now. Soft brown curls on his forehead. Lips parted. A sigh. 

_I can never leave you._

I'm caught, torn. Like always. But this war is just in my head, a place he doesn't need to see.  _If he did he would hate me._  

Death. War. Destruction. Blood; All the things he tries to keep out of mind but not forgotten,  _ **I am**._ He doesn't see it. He doesn't know. 

"Thomas." I always liked the way his full name felt on my tongue, full and rich with emotion, taste. I can taste his name, like the sweetest sin. "Thomas." I say again to myself, chasing my own tongue. Chasing him in soft whispers and delicate brushes, tender skin running beneath the pads of my fingers as I trace new patterns, like an artist. He is my masterpiece, an extension of myself and a life that runs wild, that rules me. 

He stirs, and I am met with a sleepy sea of wonder and caribbean blue. A smile. He turns his head to brush a kiss over my arm that is twisted under his head. "Good morning." he hums. His voice hasn't woken up yet and it cracks with sleep. 

My lips against his forehead is such an innocent gesture, and yet so intimate. Distance disappears. Fear, regret. All I can feel his him relaxing in my arms, under my lips. 

 _I care..._ More than I should. But I can't stop now. Not today, not ever.  _Hes given me just enough rope to hang myself._  

 _I love you._ Three words never seem like enough.

_I need you. You. My air. My sun. My gravity. My Tom._

His eyes meet mine again as I pull myself back down to our bed, where our limbs are woven together and our hearts beating side by side. 

I cant voice my thoughts, so I say 'Morning' and stretch myself away. His grip tightens around me, pulling me closer even as I turn away.

A smile against the bare skin of my back, brushing my hair. A chuckle against my spine, like a jolt of electricity running through my veins. His hands wander over my skin, pausing on my stomach for a second. A second too long. He hesitates.  _Because he knows._

I strain against his limbs pulling myself away from him, even as he clings to me.

"Would you like a cuppa? I need a cuppa." I say, flashing him my best smile, my heart guarded.

He stares at me. For a second I see the flash of disbelief in his eyes, and suddenly I am not sitting on the edge of the bed looking down at him, but standing in the kitchen, the counter between us. 

 _'I can... I can never... we can never be that happy family. Tom...'_  His eyes. His hope snuffed out before it could be anything at all.  _Thomas, my thomas._

My shell breaks and I fall. His blue eyes are the first thing I see.

But not how they are now. Now they are watching me, carefully hiding themselves. Now they don't trust the words that will come out. Now he's guarded.

His hands on my face, kneeling on the kitchen floor. _"Hey... Shhh.... It doesnt matter. We will find a way..."_ He whispered as I fall apart, no longer able to hold my knees to my chest. I crumple in his arms, holding onto the front of his grey shirt as if it could keep me from falling.

It didnt.

Now I'm here, no more grounded than I was the night before. "Sure, Em." He says, reaching out a hand. "But I better get a kiss first."

"Kisses with you always lead to something else."I laugh and he rolls his eyes, taking my hand and pulling me down.

Tangerines, sleep, mint, and Tom. His tongue pulls at mine, searching my mouth like it is unexplored territory. Like it had changed so much in the hours we were sleeping. His lips were soft, not chapped. For once. He explored deeper, pulling me in. The nature of the kiss dances away from sweet and tender, to something darker, deeper. I catch it before I fall back into bed completely, forgetting that anything exists outside of us.

A giggle erupted from my chest and I pushed him off me, shaking my head.

His smug grin lit up his face.

"This is not leading anywhere but the kitchen for some god damn tea." I huffed, untangling. I grab a shirt of the ground, and slide it on. His eyes follow me as I walked, like always. 

"I'll be down in a minute." He says. I turn to see him getting up, the sheets pooling around his waist. His lean chest, the smattering of chest hair, his taut abs and 5 o'clock shadow. His perfection. 

His scar above his lip, on his cheek and forehead. The laugh lines around his eyes and the redness on his cheek from where it rested against my skin. All his imperfections. His heart on his sleeve, sewn up next to mine.

I smile.

Maybe my war has a silver lining, an end.

Maybe we can make this work.

I run my fingers over the ring, its hard edges and gentle shape.

_We will find a way._


End file.
